


The End of the Rope

by williammurderface



Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-23 22:46:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7482843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/williammurderface/pseuds/williammurderface
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While the boys go on vacation, news of a zombie outbreak reaches them. While they are excited at the thought, it turns out it is much more different then they were led to believe. With Charles with them, how long will they survive? ( Zombie AU )</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Vacation

**Author's Note:**

> The first 2 chapters might be written a bit differently, as I had a long period where I stopped wiritng Metalocalypse. Ultimately, I decided against having blatant ships in this, but there will be strong friendship and maybe slash if you squint hard enough.

Summer was either the best or the worst for Dethklok, and there was absolutely no in between. They did, however, all agree that their vacations were usually the best they had, mainly because they all agreed to go to some expensive, private beach. In retrospect, it wasn’t exactly private given they wanted women there, because if one thing was for certain, they couldn’t stand spending that much time together for a long period of time. Despite the guests that they had invited, they ended up mingling with one another more than they did with the strangers.

Mainly it was due to the fact their rhythm guitarist was unable to accompany them this year, stuck at Mordhaus with a summer cold creeping up on him. Charles had caught the symptoms early on and had insisted that Toki remain in bed for his health to recover, and to prevent the other boys from catching it. Toki argued against it, but promptly gave in once his cold began to truly affect him. He wasn’t even mad when the boys came into his room to tell him they were off. All he really asked was to take pictures of the dolphins and seagulls.

Personally, Skwisgaar had proposed they could do a lot more with Toki bedridden, and initially, they all agreed that it would be much more fun and they would have less limits. They were wrong. They were bored. With no one around to laugh at their jokes, with frequent women asking where Toki was, they found it to be rather…lacking. Skwisgaar often found himself turning to ask Toki for backup on an opinion, but immediately scowled once he realized that he was absent.

Murderface especially, was disappointed with Toki’s absence, often claiming he was just bullshitting just to spend time with Charles. Everyone was rather…clingy to him since their manager 'died’ a little over a year ago. Though they all expressed it differently, it was obvious enough to Offdensen that they wanted his attention.

Nevertheless, it was three days into their week long vacation, the four boys absolutely drained of any excited energy they had came to their private beach in. They were all rested on fold out chairs, each with either a drink, or ice cream cone in their hands. Nathan gave a nonchalant grunt as he lifted his drink, moving the small umbrella to sip at his beverage, presumably alcoholic.

“…..huh. I think this is the first vacation that turned out to be bullshit.”

“Eh, I thinks it ams pretty okay.”

“That’s because Toki ain’t here to make ya look better.”

“That amsent true, I already looks good without him.” The blond gave a half-assed shrug as he gripped the dripping, melting frozen treat in his hand. Sure, it was nice to get Toki out of his damn hair for once, but it felt oddly…lacking, without the rhythm guitarist at his feet.

Skwisgaar scoffed in denial at his looming thoughts, grabbing his ice cream to sink his teeth into the vanilla ice cream, not once wincing as he took a bite from it.

Murderface looked upon the act as if it were a challenge, grabbing his own cone to sink his teeth in, in an attempt to take a much larger bite. That failed, however, as the cold temperature stung at his teeth and he spat it out onto the sand.

“FUCK!”

That managed to get the Swede to snort, an amused grin managing to find its way not only to his face, but to the drummer’s and singer’s as well.

“It’s not fucking funny!”

“It’s only funny when it’s your fault, dude.”

“Not my faults you ams stupids.”

William was ready to go off on a tangent, his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth wide open, though he stopped himself once he heard the all too familiar sound of a dethphone ringing.

“Hey, who’s fucking phone is that? I thought we weren’t allowing calls on off time.”

“…Charles doesn’t usually call on vacation. Must be an emergency.”

“Answers the phone then!”

All of them rummaged for their phones in their bathing suits in unison, though the culprit had come from Nathan’s. Their faces were filled with visible concern as Nathan carefully held it, spikes barely touching his face as he accepted the call.

“…is everything….okay?”

_“I’m on my way to pick you guys up, be packed immediately, you’re all leaving at once.”_


	2. Business

The moment they had gotten Charles’ call, they all had a gut feeling that something had gone wrong. Given his emphasis that he was getting them immediately, it only furthered in confirming their suspicions. They had packed quickly, with very little arguments of wether or not they should stay.

If Charles was serious, they couldn’t argue with him and they wouldn’t, what was to be done would be done, and they were now waiting at the airport, for their personal jet to arrive in the nick of time. Not many words were spoken, each band member was tense in their own way.

Skwisgaar was glued to his guitar at this point, fingers plucking at the strings, working their way to play frivolously as his jaw clenched in the silent atmosphere. Pickles took to drinking, not as heavily as he usually did, but he was quiet, visibly tense with his hunched posture as he sat on one of the waiting benches. Murderface was occupied with his knife, carving into the padding of the bench and absentmindedly picking at the exposed stuffing.

Nathan was pacing, biting his lip as he was clearly trying to hide his visible anxiousness. Did they do something wrong? Was Charles upset with them?

There was far too many possibilities as to why their manager was picking them up, each becoming more exaggerated than the next.

“….what if he doesn’t want to be our manager anymore?”

Their heads collectively rose once the silence was broken by Nathan’s question, Pickles more confused than anything.

“Nat'n, he literally died fer us. I don’t see why he’d be quittin’ on us, especially after this long.”

“He ams makes good points, you know.”

Nathan grumbled incoherently in response, his gaze trailing towards the floor as his pacing ceased to a halt. He did make a good point, he was just being irrational. If Charles was there to protect them, why would he have the need to leave them? But that brought another question…

“…I’ve been thinking. The last Charles got this serious with us, some major shit was going down. Do you think he knows something?”

The group turned their heads over to Murderface, who seemed ready to argue his point, but no one seemed to argue against it. They all seemed as if they were thinking over it, and it was the most likely reason that Charles would be coming to them. They all knew it.

“Do I know what?”

Their train of thoughts were promptly cut off, hair whipping over three quarters of the band’s shoulders as they turned to see their manager, almost as if he had been there the entire time.

“Charles!”

In unison, they called his name as well as perk up from their gloomy postures and mood, all running over to him. They weren’t expressing happiness of the sorts, it was more of a panic than anything.

Charles gave a nod of his head, not wasting any time to turn and make his way back to the jet, waving his hand, motioning for the boys to follow him. They weren’t reluctant in the slightest, practically at his heel.

“I will explain everything on the ride back to Mordhaus. You’ll find that Toki is on the plane too, he insisted on coming along.”

“Toki?”

The simultaneous exclamation resulted in the guitarist and bassist to look at each other extremely awkwardly. The way they had spoke sounded like concern, and it had been obvious since Toki had fallen ill that they did care for the Norwegian, albeit in different ways. Nevertheless, Skwisgaar responded with a slight scoff, brushing blond bangs out from his face.

“Yes, just, uh, try not to touch him too much. His cold is contagious in the first stages, I don’t need all of you bed ridden.”

Though Skwisgaar’s brows furrowed at that comment, he didn’t think too much of it. His immune system was practically perfect, it wouldn’t matter if he caught or cold or not, which he wouldn’t.

Once all was said and done, the band was finally seated in their seats, with Toki’s seat fixed into a more bed like position for him, with blankets and pillows. None of the others seemed to mind, as they were too busy being bombarded with questions from their rhythm guitarist.

“Oh, oh! Was theres cute girls there?”

“Yeah, the chicks were pretty hot, I guess. It was kinda borin’ though. Eh, dunno. Don’t remember most of the first two days.”

“It ams okay, Pickle. Oh, Skwisgaar! Dids you get anythings for me likes I asked?”

Skwisgaar replied with the vaguest smirk, scoffing as he leaned forward and placed the small umbrella from Nathan’s drink into Toki’s hair.

“Ja. You ams stupid looksings as you sounds, with the stuffys nose.”

Toki didn’t seem to take offense with those comments, given he was occupied with removing the umbrella and holding it gently in his hands, which were mostly covered by the baggy, Dethklok brand hoodie he was wearing.

“Oh, wowee….I loves it!”

With his grin still on his face, Skwisgaar rolled his eyes, looking back up to the front where Charles was patiently waiting for the boys to finish reconciling.

“Oh, oh! Toki, I got you something too!”

“Oh, wowee! What did you gets for me, Moidaface?”

The bassist looked around for a moment, taking note that the other three were too occupied with one another to notice. He coughed, before pulling a lei of red flowers out from the deep pocket of his shorts. He quickly shoved it to Toki, who immediately put it on with a large grin.

“It ams so pretty…thanks you, Moidaface!”

“Just don’t fucking tell anyone! I…just thought you’d like that bullshit.”

Everyone’s conversations were cut off abruptly when Charles pulled out his mobile laptop, clearing his throat rather loudly to grab their attention.

His expression was…unusually stern, off putting. It was far too serious, even for himself, and Nathan could see that as plain as day, which was why he was being attentive and alert.

The jet began to rumble as it started, with a slow start, progressively speeding until it would take flight, Charles finding the opportunity to finally speak up.

“There’s…things you boys need to know about.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of people write William's lisp, but I'm not. It's too difficult and I struggle enough with the Scandinavians' accents.
> 
> Chapter 3 might be out a bit late, apologies in advanced.


End file.
